Black Dagger Brotherhood 15: Blood Kiss: Legacy 1 by J.R. Ward

Author:J.R. Ward [Ward, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

Britney fucking Spears.

As Craeg sat in the rear of the classroom, all he could think of was that dumb-ass “Baby One More Time” video from a million years ago. He’d seen the damn thing only once, when an older, post-trans cousin of his had been watching it with a fascination he hadn’t understood. At the time, Craeg had wondered why the hell some idiot human school girl with a pair of braids, a pleated skirt, and half her belly hanging out would be on anyone’s radar.

Now? He so got it.

“…this detonator’s primer is lead azide, lead styphnate, and aluminum, and you want to place the compound here, about the base charge, which in this case is tetryl.” When Boone put his hand up, the Brother Tohrment nodded. “Yeah?”

“Are there other primary charges?”

“Good question. There’s dizodinitrophenol and also you can use mercury fulminate mixed with potassium chlorate. But we’re ASA in the Brotherhood.”

The lesson continued, with Tohr, as he’d told them to call him, walking them through Bomb Making 101—and Boone, the class hand popper, interrupting from time to time with yet another “good question.”

If the guy hadn’t been so tight at the hand-to-hand, and otherwise quiet and not a problem, you’d have pointed to him as the classhole.

Meanwhile, Craeg was doing the right brain/left brain polka and he guessed the creative/analytic bucket labels held up: The analytical side of him was plugged into the front of the room, with its long countertop of chemicals in various forms and containers, and its blackboard on which there were scribbles and diagrams.

The “creative” side, or “nasty man-whore repository of all things heeeeeeeeey-now,” kept pulling his eyes over to Paradise. She was sitting in front of him, at the table over on the right, and unlike him, she certainly didn’t appear anything other than strictly focused: she was leaning in, intent to the point of obsession on the information being given, taking notes on a pad.

Half of her hair was pulled back into a loose knot she’d tied with some kind of thick black elastic, and she was wearing the same loose white ji-like uniform they all were. But fucking A, she might as well have been in a string bikini with all those blond waves down around her shoulders and her breasts—

Stop it.

To fuck with that, his libido shot back.

Fantastic. Now he was distracted and arguing with himself. Any more data processing under his helmet and he was liable to have a skull meltdown of Three Mile proportions.

And what do you know, he went right back to staring at her.

The root of his problem, apart from the orgasms he’d had in the shower, was the nape of her neck.

That skin right there had to be as soft as the stuff on her foot.

Had to be.

Shifting in his seat, he surreptitiously dropped his hand under the table and rearranged himself. Damn it. He really had to reel this shit in.

And yet even as his stare went back to Tohr and the bomb talk,

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